


Tall Tall Shadow

by Erik_Carierre



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux, Phantom - Susan Kay
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Erik has Issues, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:14:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29979282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erik_Carierre/pseuds/Erik_Carierre
Summary: This work is a character study of Erik, inspired by the idea that the most interesting companion for his life's travels would be Erik himself. No explanations for how the time travel works, tonight we focus solely on our hyperfixations as men
Comments: 3
Kudos: 5





	Tall Tall Shadow

**Author's Note:**

> Erik is frightened by the monster of his childhood.

It was some time following the bizarre, torturous incident Mama and Father Mansart referred to as the exorcism. Erik was unsure what to call it himself; he preferred to blot it from his mind, regarding himself as a rational young man with no patience for mysticism, but the effects had been worryingly persistent. 

He hid from the attic in a childlike manner, having lost interest in the disassembled toys and books kept there. It still smelled heavily of myrrh to him, dizzying and overpowering, a heavy reminder of restraints and stripped dignity. He still went upstairs after supper, if only to avoid weary argument with Mama and keep some semblance of comforting schedule, but he could no longer sleep. Instead he lay on the thin mattress with his cramped body tucked beneath the blanket, eyes shut and the mask clasped tightly to his chest should he need it. And then, when he was quite sure the light was streaming through the boarded window again, he would dress immediately and make for the now-acceptable comfort of the parlour, where he would remain for most of the day and perhaps catch up on sleep.

It was strange how so trivial an incident could pull at his mind. Some part of him - the magician, no doubt - undeniably wanted to believe, as if learning the apparent reality of demons would make for improved tricks and better fairy tales. But Erik was quite sure he was afraid, and for good reason. He had seen a demon before, after all, staring at him incredulously from a bedroom mirror. There was no reason to doubt anymore, and he must be careful; apparently he had harboured one without even knowing, and was unsure if Father Mansart had really, truly gotten rid of it. 

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸

Mama had taken notice to the odd behaviour, the sort of self-flagellation he had never exhibited before. She didn’t believe for a second he was truly guilty for trashing the parlour a week earlier, upon hearing the old dog didn’t have a soul. From the way he slept in his father’s old chair, no doubt he had forgotten the mess entirely. But it was cause for suspicion. She didn’t pretend to understand the way his mind worked, these obsessions with rules, punishments, problems and their solutions… were it not for his face he would have been a perfectly boring child. These things and more she discussed with Marie Perrault after supper, who seemed unwilling to comment, concerned Erik may hear.

He wasn’t listening. Numbly he ascended the grand staircase, and then up the narrow, creaking steps of the attic.

Only fear kept him from raising alarm to the women downstairs. Fear paralyzed and silenced him as he stared frozen in the doorway, an electric tremor running down his spine. The demon was not a nightmare or a reflection anymore, but a full-bodied apparition, bigger than him and dangerous-looking. It was hunched over his bed, long, skeletal fingers curled around the wooden boards nailed over the window, as if to pry them off. Its hair was dark and matted, falling uneven around broad, thin shoulders. A tattered cloak covered its body, a faded velvetine blue with silver half-moons and stars. 

The demon had noticed the intrusion, and slowly turned to regard Erik, betraying no shock at his presence. The narrow face betrayed no emotion save for narrowed, unkind eyes gleaming amber, the only feature visible behind a dirtied white mask. He stared at the eight-year-old child, seeing only a weak, frightened boy he had long since buried to survive in the bitter cold and contempt of a Roma camp.

It was silent for a moment, the recognition taking different forms in the both of them. Erik observed himself turn from the window and straighten up, though instinctively not enough to hit his head on the severe slope of the roof. He took one step closer before the boy gripped the doorframe, trembling in every limb but prepared to stand his ground. This child was blind, the taller Erik knew, still enjoying the comfort of a house. And he was too curious to flee from this bizarre, dreamlike accident of time and space.

“You aren’t supposed to be here,” Erik confronted the demon, wracking his frightened mind for any useful teachings from the Father, finding only the tangled lyrics of the Kyrie and vague warnings against dark temptations he still couldn't comprehend.

“Why not? It’s my house,” the demon bit back, and Erik was fairly sure a wicked smile was forming on its face. “Besides, I’m not really here, am I? It’s an illusion, a dream. I do it all the time.”

“But I'm not dreaming,” Erik insisted. “ _I _live here. You aren’t real; you aren’t going to trick me.”__

____

“ _I’m _not real?” the demon laughed now, hoarse and unaffected. “I must be dying. I don’t know why I would dream of this place, after all- don’t you know what’s about to happen?”__

______ _ _

Erik flinched as he stepped closer, watching the glowing eyes turn cruel. Bitter. “You don’t belong here either. She doesn’t want you, and you know it. Oh… _Oh. _I know what’s happened…” he turned, looking around the room, regarding the little desk and dresser. “I smell it now. You think I’m- you’re even stupider than they give you credit for! You think you know suffering now- they really should have institutionalized you. Then I might not be in this mess-”__

________ _ _ _ _

“Shut _up! _” Erik cried desperately. “You’re a demon, I know you are! But I can see you now, and they will see you too. They will drive you out and everything will go back to the way it was.”__

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

“And what way was that? She isn’t going to coddle you anymore, don’t you realize that? She’s afraid of you. She has an animal living in her house, and if she’s going to have her new family… it’s all your fault,” he breathed, blinking in realization.

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

“I haven’t done anything!” Erik protested. “I won’t listen to you, your disguise isn’t fooling me. I will tell Mama, and she will get Father-”

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

The boy gave a strangled cry as the taller one grabbed him by the collar, dragging him closer. “You let her out!” he cried in a rage. “You let it happen! You killed her! It’s all your fault- _**all of it!**_ ”

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

The women were disturbed by a crash somewhere upstairs. Marie called for the boy, before Madeleine muttered under her breath and made her way up to the attic. She heard Erik sobbing on the floor, utterly bewildered by this confrontation. It had to be a demon. It had to be. His mask was all a trick.

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

“What have you done to your dresser?!” she stepped over the splintered wood to find him recoiled against his upended mattress. “If you’re going to keep breaking my things I swear I’ll-...” She fell silent upon seeing how truly distressed the boy was, and was too disturbed to shout. “Erik… stop, stop that now. Go and sit in the parlour, Marie will check you for splinters.”

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

“I d-don’t understa-and,” he panted between sobs, unsure what to make of the confrontation; whether it was a demon telling premonitions, or himself telling lies. There was a hesitant pat on his shoulder as Mama made him leave the room, and she stood there in the attic for a moment, hands over her face. 

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

Perhaps Etienne was right. She would speak to him tomorrow.

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading my first work on ao3!! This idea has been my brain child for literal ages so I'm glad to finally publish it. You're the best!


End file.
